The Thought of Losing You
by DrKCooper
Summary: A missing scene from "Whatever Remains, However Improbable" (6x21). How would Watson and Sherlock get out of the murder allegation?


_Disclaimer: All recognizable_ Elementary _characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners including, but not limited to CBS. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fan fiction story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No financial gain is associated with the publishing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended._

Author's Note: This isn't exactly a post-ep for "Whatever Remains, However Improbable" (6x21) as it takes place before the final scenes of the season 6 finale. However, the opening dialogue is not mine, it's obviously verbatim from the show. It doesn't happen often that I find myself thinking a season finale should have been the series finale, but that is where I find myself with _Elementary_. The finale was perfect. I do look forward to Sherlock & Watson returning to where it all began—Scotland Yard. Comments/reviews welcome. –dkc

"It's time we take everything we know to Agent Malek," Sherlock was wound tight and his worry was multiplying.

"What if we didn't do anything, just took our chances, see what happens?" Joan's tone nearly pushed her partner over the edge.

"You want to just wait and see if you're arrested?" he could feel his blood pressure rising.

"I understand why Hannah did what she did; I don't want her to go to prison for it. I don't want the Captain to go to prison helping her, but think about it, what does Malek really have?"

"Means, uh, Michael was bludgeouned with a weapon you are known to favor. Motive, he tried to kill you. Opportunity, no one reliable can account for your whereabouts of the time of the murder. What else am I forgetting? Oh, yes! He identified you as his killer as he lay dying!" he'd reached the end of his patience with her matter-of-fact approach to this precarious situation.

"She has no witness, she can't prove that I wasn't where I said I was when Michael was killed," she countered.

Sherlock buried his face in his hands. She had been sitting on the basement office sofa watching him as he expressed his concerns, concerns that were indeed very serious.

As a last ditch effort to convince her to not take a wait and see approach or, as a last resort, throw Hannah under the bus, he brought up the matter of parenthood.

"Who in their right mind is going to allow an accused killer to adopt a child?" he hit the mark as Joan seemed to retreat into her own thoughts.

"Maybe no one," she looked straight ahead, not seeing the distress on his face. "Can't think about that now."

She stood, making a path toward the stairs, avoiding his glance.

"Well then it's over you know, our little family unit. You, me, the Captain…Marcus. We'll never be able to step foot in that precinct again."

"I know."

"We're supposed to be partners!" the vein in his forehead popped, his anger and sadness evident in his voice.

Joan turned on her heel and let every emotion in her body drip into her next words:

"We are…so be my partner!"

Watson turned her back, both literally and figuratively. He couldn't take the thought of losing her. He couldn't bear a life without her. For years he had occupied his thoughts with the notion that Moriarty was the only woman he could love, who could love him, but he was wrong. It was Watson.

"Watson!" he followed suit.

She stopped at the staircase, placing her hand on the newel post.

"Sherlock. I shouldn't have…" her face expressed the sheer weight of the situation.

He, in his awkward manner, stood with his hands to his sides, rocking on his heels as he took several breaths. He was clearly contemplating his words.

"What can I do?" the decibel level of his voice had dropped, his tone softened.

"This decision has to be mine."

He placed his hand atop hers, a rare physical contact between the two partners. She looked down to their hands before looking up into his dark eyes.

"I can't lose you."

Her heart moved her legs forward. She wrapped her arms around his middle, trapping his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She sighed and released him. The loss of contact nearly broke his heart. He placed a hand on the side of her face.

"Joan," he whispered.

Her eyes welled with tears as his fingers gently traced the bruise Michael had left on her face.

"It broke me to see you in that hospital bed."

The tears began to fall.

"Don't cry, Watson, don't cry," he wiped the tears from beneath one eye and leaned in to press a kiss on her lips. He tasted the salt from her falling tears. He felt her exhale, her body relaxing with the softness of this man.

"Sherlock."

She had barely felt the vibration of speaking his name on her lips before their bodies closed the space between them and a deeper, insistent kiss began. His hand fell to the nape of her neck. He felt her hand on his low back. For just that moment the weight of their lives gave them a reprieve. As their lips parted, it became clear what needed to be done.

"I can't lose you, either, Sherlock," she let out a trembling breath.

"We'll fix this."

He pressed his forehead to hers, careful to avoid the darkened skin that was accompanied by tenderness.

"We will," he said as a solitary tear fell to his cheek.

 _-finis-_


End file.
